Fastlane
by JustBFree
Summary: Pietro is learning what it is to be a mutant, but all lessons taught by Magneto are eventually bittersweet.
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: If you're like me, and are tired of seeing Pietro being portrayed as strictly an arrogant, one-dimensional character on Evolution, then I think you'll like this story. In a way, I'm writing this as an escape from the stories that show Magneto as being an uncaring, neglectful and abusive father...and also there's no slash. I personally don't have a problem with slash itself, but often, I find it to be unrealistic...especially since these are just cartoons! P.S.- I don't own them, wish I did, but I don't.  
  
Eric Lehnsherr cracked open the door to his son's bedroom. Peering inside, he watched his son sleep for a moment before approaching him. Time was running out though, so he quietly walked up to the bed and gently nudged his son.  
  
"Ugh, no!" his son, Pietro, grumbled.   
  
Eric smiled a little at his sluggish behavior, common in the morning. It was a stark contrast to his never-ending activity during the day.  
  
"Pietro, get up. Now." Eric commanded.   
  
He could hear Pietro mutter, "Tired."  
  
"No excuses, now get up."   
  
Sighing, the boy did as he was told.   
  
Eric made him breakfast, and packed him a lunch while Pietro got dressed and ready for school.   
  
"Pietro, what is the capitol of New York?" Eric had asked over his newspaper while Pietro sat across from him at the dining room table.   
  
Pietro thought for a second, then, "Albany!" Eric peeked over the top of his paper, "Very good. Now get going, you don't want to be late."   
  
On his way out, Pietro grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl in the kitchen.   
  
He set out on his walk to school, just a few blocks away.  
  
'New Groves Elementary School' quickly came into view.  
  
Pietro groaned, he didn't like school very much. Despite his father's misguided thoughts, the life of a fifth grader was very difficult.  
  
As if the classes weren't enough, Pietro was a favorite target for the bullies of the school.   
  
He was smaller than they were. They liked to make fun of him because his name was a bit unusual; and because he was somewhat of a loner, he didn't have many friends who would stand up for him. Sometimes it just didn't pay to be unique.  
  
'Nerd', 'Geek' and 'Shorty' were their favorite names for him.  
  
"Hey, Pietro, wait up!" He heard from behind him on the sidewalk.   
  
It was Mary Taylor, practically the only part he liked about school.  
  
She ran to catch up to him, her blonde curls bouncing with each step. They had been friends since the first day of third grade, nearly two years ago. She was his best friend, and lately, it seemed like more than that.   
  
She had made it a habit of meeting him before school started, just so they could talk. After class, Pietro would always walk her home, even though it took him twice as long to get to his own house.   
  
"Hi Mary." He greeted her once she caught up to him. He took a wedge of orange and gave it to her. She smiled and fell into step beside him.  
  
"Are you ready for the test?" she asked as they walked into the building.   
  
"Yeah, I even stayed up late studying, just to make sure." Pietro yawned.  
  
"Wow! I'll bet you do really well on it. I studied too, but I'm not sure I can remember them all." They came into their classroom.  
  
"Well, state capitols are hard to remember, but you're really smart, you'll make a good grade too." He complimented her.   
  
Mary smiled at Pietro and took her seat.   
  
*^*^*^*  
  
"Alright class, I have your test results, and I'm sorry to say that it looks like only two of you bothered to study. Pietro Maximoff and Mary Taylor, congratulations! The two of you each made an A+!" Mrs. Horton exclaimed.  
  
The rest of the class was less enthusiastic. "They cheated!" cried out Mark Jacobs.  
  
He was a large kid, one of the more promising players on the school's pee-wee football team. His dark brown hair was spiked and his eyes were beady; judging from the way Pietro flinched at his voice, it was obvious that Mark was one of his regular tormentors.   
  
"Mark, shame on you! You shouldn't go about accusing people of cheating just because you made a lower grade. Besides, it would have been impossible for them to cheat; Mary is at your table while Pietro is at the one across the room. Now, I'd like you to apologize."  
  
Mark rolled his eyes and muttered, "Sorry."  
  
"Now, Pietro and Mary, come to my desk for your tests, you can take them home early, I'm sure your parents will be very pleased."  
  
Pietro and Mary did as they were told, but Mark stretched out his leg and tripped Pietro!  
  
"Ooofff!" he grunted as he landed on the floor.   
  
The class erupted into laughter, and Pietro's face went red as a tomato from both embarrassment and anger. Mary ran over and helped him to his feet, "Don't listen to them, Pietro."  
  
"Mark, that does it! Class, you will stay inside during recess and retake the state capitol test, and you can all thank Mark for his disgraceful behavior." Mrs. Horton announced.  
  
Paper balls and insults instantly flew at Mark.   
  
*^*^*^*  
  
The bell rang; it was recess time for Mrs. Horton's class. Or, more accurately, for only two of her students.   
  
Pietro and Mary ran out to the playground with the other fifth graders, while Mrs. Horton's students stayed in the room to retake their test.  
  
Mrs. Horton went about the class, redistributing the tests, disappointment in her eyes. Why couldn't more of her students apply themselves the way that Pietro and Mary did?  
  
She came to Mark's table, which was one student short. The other students at the table grudgingly accepted their papers and began to correct their mistakes, while Mark just scowled.   
  
He didn't feel like redoing his test, he felt like beating up Pietro. The nerve of that little nerd, who did he think he was?   
  
He stared down at his paper.   
  
He had missed almost every question. Unfazed, he glanced out the window and saw Pietro and Mary on the swings. His blood started to boil, his fists were clenching.   
  
Suddenly, an idea formed in his head. He raised his hand.   
  
"Yes, Mark?" Mrs. Horton asked from behind her desk.   
  
"Can I go to the restroom?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.   
  
He could hear her sigh, he saw he rub the bridge of her nose.  
  
"Yes, Mark, you may. Here, take the pass, but no longer than five minutes, you hear me?"   
  
Mark nodded as he took the painted ruler that acted as their room's hall pass.   
  
"Yes, ma'am." he replied in his most respectful voice.  
  
He headed down the hallway towards the doors that led to the playground, tossing the ruler into a trash can.  
  
He stood still a moment, letting his predatory instincts take over. He remembered that Mary was wearing a pink sweater today; and everywhere that Mary went, Pietro was sure to go.   
  
He looked at the swings; no, Maria and Tommy were on them now.   
  
The monkey bars; no, Joseph and Jennifer were there.   
  
The jungle gym; no, Sarah, Alyson, Michelle, Emma and Amber were playing on it, and so were Nicolas, Anthony and James.   
  
He caught a flash of pink at his side.   
  
Mary and Pietro were playing tag with some of the other kids in the small field on the side of the school.   
  
He marched straight up to the little group, intent on causing trouble.   
  
"Hey!" He barked out.   
  
Most of the children froze, fearful of Mark's wrath.  
  
"I bet you thought that was pretty funny, didn't you? What, you think you're smarter than me?" He demanded as he stalked towards Pietro.  
  
"Well, let's see how smart you are after I crush your skull!" He bellowed.   
  
Pietro stood still, determined to hold his ground. He didn't want Mary to see him run away like a little chicken.  
  
Pietro had said nothing in response to Mark's words, he only glared at him.   
  
"Mark, leave Pietro alone! It's now his fault if he's smarter than you!" Mary cried from off to the side.   
  
Mark's anger suddenly shifted to her.   
  
Pietro's stony expression broke into a grimace of concern for Mary. Mark was known for hitting people.   
  
Boys AND girls.   
  
Father had always told him never to hit a girl, no matter how angry you get.   
  
Mark continued yelling, "You can't stop me, ugly!"  
  
"Get away from her, Mark." Pietro ordered, redirecting Mark's anger.   
  
Mark smiled meanly at Pietro from over his shoulder. "Ooh, afraid I'll hurt your little girlfriend?"   
  
Pietro didn't know what to say, he had never stood up to Mark before.   
  
"Well, you should be!"   
  
Mark backhanded Mary across the face.   
  
She was smaller than Pietro; making her much smaller and weaker than Mark, who was strong from years of peewee football practice.  
  
She hit the ground and started crying, she was bled a little from the mouth.  
  
Mark turned from her and came towards Pietro.  
  
He looked at Mary, dirt on her sweater, blood on her face mixing with tears.  
  
Pietro had never felt so angry before, he charged at Mark.   
  
His tiny fist connected a few times with Mark's nose and eyes, but Mark was stronger, and more vicious.  
  
"Oh, now you wanna fight?" he mocked Pietro.  
  
He hit Pietro in the stomach, and then kicked him when he was down.   
  
Several of the students had come from the playground to watch the fight, but were disappointed when the teachers rushed in to break it up.  
  
Mark was pulled off Pietro, who was beaten terribly.   
  
"Pietro, are you okay?" Mary asked once she could reach him.   
  
Pietro 's stomach and head hurt, but he forgot about his own injuries once he saw Mary. Her clothes were dirty, and she was still bleeding from the mouth, but she was more concerned with him than with herself.  
  
"Children, go back to your classrooms, there's nothing more to see here. Mary, that means you too." A teacher shooed her and the other kids away, then helped Pietro to his feet.  
  
"Alright, let's look at you. Well, I would have expected more damage than this, but we should take you to the clinic just to be sure."   
  
Pietro was a little surprised too.   
  
He remembered how hard Mark was hitting him, but his body wasn't in much pain. He felt a little nauseous, and his whole body felt strange. Not painful, just a little weird, as if he had just been upside down, and all of the blood was rushing back down to the rest of his body.  
  
But beyond the weird physical sensation, his head hurt from anger.  
  
Mark had hit Mary, and then beat Pietro up in front of everyone!   
  
What did he do to deserve this?   
  
Nothing!   
  
How did that justify being beaten? What had Mary done to deserve being hit so hard?   
  
He looked across the schoolyard and saw Mark being taken towards the building, probably the principal's office. Mark turned around and made a face at Pietro.  
  
Pietro's brain felt like it was swelling from his fury. That Mark Jacobs had been picking on him since they were in first grade.  
  
Pietro had ignored the comments about his name being "stupid" and his hair being "weird"; he had reluctantly given up his lunch money, lying to his father and saying that he didn't like the food at the school cafeteria; he had tolerated the little bruises given out by Mark and his football friends.  
  
'You don't just hit a girl and get away with it! He'll probably just get another detention and a warning not to be so rough, but he deserves worse!' He thought angrily.  
  
He wriggled from the teacher's grasp, and ran straight towards Mark.   
  
His feet pounded the pavement as he chased after the bully.   
  
'What the...' he thought frantically.  
  
Everything looked blurry and it all seemed to move in slow motion at the same time. Pietro was a little concerned, but he dismissed it from his mind, reasoning that his vision must have been affected when Mark had hit him in the eye.   
  
Mark was directly in front of him, and Pietro charged faster.   
  
Mark had split Mary's lip and ruined her sweater; Mark had probably given Pietro a black eye and several bruises on top of that.  
  
Pietro knew that he would get in trouble for trying to restart the fight, but it would be worth it if he could push Mark hard enough and make him fall.   
  
Pietro reached out and shoved Mark as hard as he could.  
  
To his extreme astonishment, Mark practically flew from where he had been standing!  
  
Pietro watched as Mark tumbled end over end across the playground.   
  
The two teachers who had been walking him towards the school building cried out, "Oh my God, what happened?!"   
  
That's what Pietro was wondering. He stared down at his hands, what did he do?  
  
The teachers ran over to Mark, forgetting everything else. They ran past Pietro and the other students.  
  
He suddenly felt guilty; he hadn't meant to hurt Mark so bad!  
  
He looked behind him, and yelped, "Whoa!"  
  
The ground was ripped apart in a trail from where he had been standing, all the way to where he was now.   
  
The sidewalk was gone; all that remained of the walkway was crumbling cement. It was as if a bulldozer had come along and ripped the pavement from the ground.   
  
Confused, Pietro stared at the trail that ended where he was now standing. Then, he looked down at the soles of his shoes. The rubber was worn down, and it looked as if it had melted somewhat on the edges. What was going on here?  
  
He had just run on that sidewalk a second ago, hadn't he?   
  
He still felt nauseous, and a little dizzy.  
  
He shook his head, trying to shake off the weird feelings, when a teacher approached him. "Pietro, come on, we still have to take both of you to the office for fighting."  
  
*^*^*^*  
  
Mark was being taken care of in the clinical area, while Pietro sat and fidgeted in the waiting room. Mary sat beside him, but was keeping quiet, no doubt her mouth hurt.  
  
He was just as surprised as the teachers to find that he had not bruised or sustained any real damage; unlike Mark who, he had overhead, received a broken arm and a bad scrape to the forehead when he was knocked over in the playground.  
  
None of the teachers understood what had happened, and neither did Pietro.   
  
He knew that it was he who had shoved Mark so hard, but he didn't know how it was possible. Mark was bigger and heavier than he was, how had he managed to do that? And the sidewalk, what had happened there?   
  
He felt a shadow pass over him and looked up.   
  
Eric frowned down at him, "Fighting, Pietro?"  
  
Pietro looked down at the floor. "Yeah."  
  
Mrs. Horton approached Eric. "Excuse me? Are you Pietro's father?"  
  
"Yes I am, what happened here?" Eric asked.  
  
"Well, Mr. Maximoff, you see..."  
  
"My name is Lehnsherr, Eric Lehnsherr."  
  
"Oh...I see." Mrs. Horton said, even though it was obvious that she didn't.  
  
"Please continue."  
  
"Oh, well, Mark Jacobs has made a bad habit of picking on Pietro this year, and I'm afraid that things just got out hand."  
  
Eric turned from the teacher and knelt in front of his son. "Are you alright?"  
  
Pietro nodded.   
  
"Good. I think you've had enough excitement for today, you're coming home." He took Pietro's hand and began to lead him out of the office.  
  
Mrs. Horton began to protest, "But Mr. Lehnsherr, Pietro still has to finish the rest of his classes."  
  
Eric turned back to her, "I suggest that you stop worrying for my son, he'll be fine from now on, trust me."  
  
Mrs. Horton had nothing to say to that.   
  
*^**^^  
  
The car ride was mostly quiet. Pietro worried about what would happen when they got home. No doubt his father was disappointed, and probably mad too. It wasn't like Pietro had started the fight though, he had just wanted to get Mark away from Mary. Maybe if Father understood the circumstances, he wouldn't be punished for so long.  
  
"I'm sorry, father. I shouldn't have fought with him." Pietro said suddenly, in a small attempt to dissolve his father's anger.  
  
Surprisingly, Eric did not answer him harshly, he did not sound angry.  
  
"You should not have resorted to violence, but from what I understand, you fought back to protect your friend. The little girl with you in the clinic, I believe."  
  
Pietro fidgeted. "Y-yeah, Mark hit her first, and I got mad."  
  
"I'm sure anyone else would have done the same, son. But that's not what's bothering you, is it?"  
  
Pietro looked out the window, instantly nervous. Did his father somehow know what he did? Would he get in trouble for it? "Um...what do you mean?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level.  
  
"I saw the schoolyard's sidewalk, Pietro."  
  
Pietro couldn't think of a way to explain that.  
  
"I think it's time we had a little talk." 


	2. Learning

Eric had driven past the school, silent in his thoughts. Certainly, Pietro didn't understand what had happened today, but Eric knew all too well.   
  
What power had his son been gifted with?   
  
Judging from his assailant's injuries and the ruined walkway, it was no doubt a powerful mutation; Pietro would soon lose his meek ways and become more confident once he fully understood that he was different from his classmates.  
  
Then again, what if his powers became as uncontrollable as his twin sister's had been?   
  
The memory of Wanda, kicking and screaming for him not to leave her, entered into his mind. He had never wanted to have her taken away, it was a last resort.   
  
But what could he have done? Let the girl have her temper tantrums until she destroyed everything around her?   
  
After Magda, the twins' mother had left, Wanda's powers had manifested and nearly killed her brother and Eric on several occasions. In his heart, Eric knew that Wanda blamed him for thier mother's departure.   
  
He had to protect one child from the other; and though it was harsh, he saw that the only way to do this was to separate the twins.  
  
What else could he have done? Let the girl have her temper tantrums until she destroyed everything around her?   
  
Charles had promised to help Wanda manage her anger and powers, but so far, there had been little change. As Eric understood it from his annual phone call to Charles, she still held the utmost contempt for her father, and longed for the day when she could have revenge.  
  
Well, the day would come when she would forgive Eric and be allowed to come back to what was left of the family; or, if she refused to let go of her anger, then more drastic measures would have to be taken. No threat or injury to the girl of course, but drastic nonetheless.   
  
It had been nearly six years since Wanda's powers had manifested. Pietro was a late bloomer, indeed, but there may be hope for him. At his advanced age, he may learn to better control his power, whatever it was.  
  
Eric knew that this was a long time coming, and was wondering how he could possibly explain such things as DNA mutations and the general fear and hatred of those who had them to a boy.   
  
Eric glanced at Pietro, who was looking out the window.  
  
Yes, Pietro was a boy, just a mere child who wanted nothing more than to play games with his friends. Eric often wished the twins to have been born later, when mutants were the dominant species of the world, and they would face no fear.  
  
Nothing he could do about that now, though.  
  
Pietro sat beside his father in the passenger seat, looking out the window as houses passed by. Father knew something, perhaps everything, but he had not said anything by way of explanation yet. This made young Pietro worry.  
  
Was father mad at him?   
  
Was he going to be punished for what he had done on the playground today?  
  
Eric parked the car in front of their small, suburban house, and they both got out.   
  
"Have a seat in the dining room, Pietro."  
  
He did as he was told, and Eric sat down across from him.  
  
"Pietro, I know that something very...strange happened to you today."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You are different from the other children, Pietro. Very different, and I think that somewhere deep down, you've always known it."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Well, everyone is different; their skin color, their eyes..."  
  
"Their hair?" he asked, touching his own near platinum locks.   
  
"Yes, their hair too. But you are different in a more special way."  
  
"How?"  
  
"The difference is in your blood, son. It's in our blood. You see, we can do things, things that no one else can do, because our blood is different. Our blood is better."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
Eric sighed at the boy across from him, this was going to be more difficult to explain that he had thought.  
  
"Well, people like you and me are called mutants. We were born different; we can do things that seem impossible, all because our blood has the X-gene. That's what makes you more special than your classmates. That was how you did what you did on the playground today."  
  
"But I don't even know how I did it!" Pietro cried.   
  
"Calm down, Pietro. This isn't a bad thing. I have actually been waiting to see if you were born this way, and I am pleased that you were. You are special, Pietro. Different, powerful. You can do things that you never thought were possible. If everything you told me is true, then I believe that you can run faster than any living human...or mutant, for that matter."  
  
"I can?" Pietro asked, becoming more interested by the second.   
  
He was powerful? He was special? He could do the impossible?  
  
Him? Short, skinny, pale, weak, meek Pietro Maximoff?  
  
"Wow, I have to go tell Mary!" he cried, ready to run all the way to her house.   
  
"No, Pietro, wait!"   
  
His father's grave tone gave the boy pause; he quickly sat down again in his dining room chair.  
  
"You can't just go out and show off your power."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because, Pietro...the world is full of bad people. Some people may get jealous of your power, they might try to hurt you because you are different."  
  
*^*^*^*  
  
Pietro thought about the conversation he and his father had had that afternoon. Now, early the next morning, he was reminded again of his father's warning.  
  
"Remember what I told you, Pietro. You cannot reveal yourself no matter how big the temptation. The world is a dangerous place, and I don't want to see you get hurt in any way." Eric had warned as he helped Pietro put on his backpack.  
  
"Don't worry, father, I won't." Pietro had replied.  
  
He went out the door, and set out on his way to school, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. 


	3. Like Father

Fifth grade, over six years ago. My mutation activated over six years ago.  
  
I've been running ever since then.   
  
Probably not the best choice to run away when you're only eleven, but I certainly had the speed for it.   
  
Turns out father was right all along. Humans can't, don't and won't accept what's different.   
  
What's unique, what's special.  
  
In a word: better.  
  
Mary couldn't. I showed her what I could do, and she freaked out.   
  
After she refused to even look at me, school wasn't fun anymore.  
  
Sure, no one picked on me after they found out what I was, and I was still the smartest kid there, but with no friends, it kinda ruins the experience.   
  
It was all father's fault. You don't just tell an eleven-year-old boy that he has super powers and then say he can't show anyone!  
  
I blamed him for Mary being afraid of me, and I ran away.  
  
I left, I ran away from father, from Mary, from the suburbs. I just chose a direction and took off...not the smartest choice I've ever made, but it worked out for a little while.  
  
A policeman found me sleeping in a park, and took me to social services.   
  
They placed me in lots of foster families, but none of them felt right.  
  
So, I kept running. It's my nature, isn't it?  
  
Six years can change a person; I've come to learn that very well.  
  
I learned how to lie and steal. I guess the mutation helps me in those departments. I used to be a horrible liar; now though, lies jump from my lips with only a split second's consideration. I don't even have to think before I make up a story.  
  
That's good.   
  
With all the lies I've told in the last year, I'd probably go insane from keeping them straight. I've had to come up with a million different explanations about my family, my home, my past, my age, pretty much everything.   
  
At least it keeps things interesting.   
  
The last foster family I stayed with was about a year ago, after that I got it into my head that I could survive on my own. I ran away from them, and stole money from people until I had enough to find a place to live.  
  
I stayed in school all this time, mainly just for the distraction.  
  
I remained one of the smartest, but other than that, everything was different.  
  
No longer the little nerd; I had grown taller, stronger, and I'm told- more handsome. I'm not afraid of anyone anymore, I'm more confident... the word arrogant comes to mind, but so what? I'm the fastest living thing on the planet, and even without my powers, I can still take care of myself.  
  
I don't need anyone.  
  
School was okay by itself, but I was bored by the second I got home. I had a lot of free time on my hands, which is the worst!  
  
For kicks, I joined the basketball team. Sure, I could have joined the track team, but where's the challenge in that?  
  
Basketball took up a lot of time, thankfully. With the practices, team meetings and games, about four days out of the week were full. That still left three days to be bored with, but it's better than having all of my days unoccupied.  
  
The game is fun, too. Running, yelling, cheering fans, a guy could get used to it.   
  
I was one of the coach's favorites...until he showed up.  
  
Evan Daniels.   
  
While the coach was making us do drills outside, the coach caught him skateboarding in the parking lot. It must have been one of those dumb Hallmark-card, Kodak moments, because the coach just stared Evan down, and then made him do drills with us. The coach liked what he saw, because the next thing you know, Evan is on the team.   
  
This will sound weird coming from me, but it happened so fast!  
  
All of a sudden, this new kid- this stupid skater- is on the team, and getting all of the praise. He was an okay player, not bad really, but the coach always gave him the winning shots, instantly making him the team champion.   
  
I didn't really like him that much, but on occasion I would drop by his locker to see how he was doing- and how much he made for allowance during the week.   
  
He didn't seem to mind, to him I was just another teammate, just one of the guys.  
  
I always knew that there was something funny about him, like he had a weird secret. After a game, I found out what it was.  
  
He had somehow grown spikes on his arm and they even cut the gym floor. He knew it, and made his spikes shrink back down into his skin. They disappeared completely, and he played it off as if nothing happened. No one else seemed to notice, they were too busy cheering him, but I know what I saw.  
  
Was he a mutant too?   
  
When I first found out about my powers, father had told me that we weren't alone. There were other mutants in the world, and they all had different powers.   
  
Daniels having a mutation might be interesting. It would certainly amp up the competition!  
  
He had planned to catch his locker thief, what better time to reveal myself?  
  
I glanced at an article I had cut out of the newspaper a few weeks ago. It was about mutants who had made themselves known in public, and how dangerous they were, just more of the 'mutants are bad' propaganda.  
  
There was also a picture that went with it, of Magneto.   
  
He was a tall, muscular man hovering above the ground in front of a military building. He was wearing a chest plate of blood red armor over a black body suit, a dark purple cape, and wearing a matching helmet.  
  
His face was stern, serious. He had short platinum hair like me; his eyes were cold light blue; his name was Eric Lehnsherr.  
  
My father.   
  
The article had said that he was stealing special ops equipment, but I hadn't paid any attention to that. All I saw was him.  
  
Yep, six years can change a person a lot.  
  
The name described him; 'Magneto' for his power over all forms of magnetism.  
  
He had once told me that name, saying that many mutants liked to choose a name for themselves once their powers activated.   
  
I hadn't chosen a name yet, but maybe now that I've chosen to reveal my true self, it was time. 


	4. Quicksilver

The lockers made for a decent haul, only made better by framing Evan for the break in. He thought to use his power against me, but he only managed to trap himself. So confused he was, too, he just didn't get it.  
  
"But why would you want to rip me off?"  
  
"For kicks man. For the challenge. Look, when you live as fast as I do, there aren't enough things to occupy my time. I gotta entertain myself. And you thought you could stop me well, NYEH! Wrong again!"  
  
I heard sirens coming, and then I bailed on him.   
  
He was caught red handed.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Being a criminal caught in the act doesn't look good on a school record, so he was expelled about two minutes after the coach kicked him off the team.  
  
Good riddance!  
  
Or so I thought.   
  
I guess that somewhere along the line, I kinda started to like having him around because he gave me competition. No one except Evan was a good rival; everyone else was too slow on the court or too slow-witted in conversation.   
  
Basketball games kept me occupied, but a couple of months after I had framed Evan, the schedule got kind of weird. Instead of playing the next school on the play list, our principal called an emergency game with Bayville High, even though it was two school districts over.  
  
'Emergency Basketball Game'? What is that? I've never heard of any emergency basketball games, and even if there were something like that, it wouldn't have been with a school that far away.   
  
Something weird was going on here.  
  
That's what the rest of the guys on our team thought, and I agreed. The trip was kinda long (read: boring!), but when the school came into view, I was actually impressed. It looked nice and new...a school for rich kids. Where there are rich kids, there's always money.   
  
I made a mental note to do a locker sweep at half time.   
  
Besides, rent was due. It wasn't as if I was hurting anyone, not really. Like any of these kids would even miss $20? No way, their rich daddies would just refill their pockets the next day.  
  
I expected to find some nice watches, cash, maybe some jewelry I could pawn off or just sell on the street... but I certainly hadn't been expecting to find Evan there in the parking lot.  
  
He almost looked like he was waiting for me, probably gunning for revenge or whatever. He wasn't alone. He made friends with some upperclassmen; did he think that scared me?   
  
Forget the game, forget the lockers, it was time for some real action! Evan had gained better control of his spikes, but even going at top speed on that skateboard he didn't even come close to me.  
  
I had given him just a taste of my power at the school, now he would see what I could really do!  
  
Instantly, I was in my costume. I had made it on the day I framed him, only took me a quarter of a second, and it didn't look half bad. Light blue and white, with some lightweight armor on the chest and shoulders just in case I ever got careless and someone got lucky with a bullet or something.   
  
My father, who called himself Magneto, had a similar costume. Different colors and his came with a matching helmet and cape. Not on mine, they would have slowed me down by .00000000001 of a second! I didn't even really need a costume, I could go just as fast in my normal clothes...but if father had one...  
  
Anyway, I ran down the street at only half speed, and I was still blowing cars away! Evan was trying to chase me, but he could never catch up; I was even teasing him and his friends, who had all somehow gotten into coordinated costumes. Weird, but I wasn't too worried. Not even when I saw that they had powers too. It would certainly make this night more interesting. In fact, I teased them.  
  
"Come on Shades! You can't hit me! I'm to fast. You can hit me, can ya?!"   
  
Father had been telling me the truth all along: there were more mutants in the world than we knew about, and here was the proof.  
  
The girl had lifted me off the ground; obviously I can't run if I have nothing to run on. However, over the years I had found that my mutation for being able to go super fast was not just restricted to my running. At school I could think twice as fast as the other kids, I also talk faster than most of my friends. And of course, there was always...  
  
"Hold onto this, baby! It's Twister Time!"  
  
I started twisting as fast as possible, until I built up enough force and she had to let me go. For a few moments, I was free.  
  
The twister trick is kinda hard to pull off, but I had stayed up in the air for longer than usual.  
  
Then I saw a bright red light and the next thing I know, I was spiked to a brick wall! I was surprised, and a little nervous now. I don't like to be made helpless like that, I'm sure that no one does.   
  
"I can't get loose! I can't get loose!"   
  
Yep, for all my speed, I wasn't strong enough to get free. It really sucked.  
  
Evan and his friends had a fun time watching me squirm.  
  
"Yeah, what good's it do you, Daniels? You still can't prove I had anything to do with gettin' ya in trouble, can ya?" I mocked, thinking nothing of consequences for what I had said earlier.  
  
Then...  
  
"No, but you just did. I've got it right here on tape."  
  
Aw, man!  
  
*^*^*^*  
  
Double Damn!  
  
Evan and his friends left me to the cops, who shoved me into their car. Next thing I know, I'm in jail. Like I said, I hate being confined.  
  
"Hey. Hey! Hey, let me go! Hey! Hey! You gotta let me outta here! I want outta here!"  
  
There was a cop working at his desk down the hall. He was, of course, ignoring me. While he was in the office area, drinking coffee and watching TV, here I was going nuts in a prison cell. It wasn't fair! I'm faster and more destructive than Evan, I'm smarter too. Man, if it was just me and him-none of his friends around- I would have wiped the floor with him!  
  
But no, he just had to go and spill his guts to the whole mutant population at his new school, and they triple time attacked me!   
  
What a loser!   
  
I mean, I might have been the one in jail, but at least I could handle my own fights.  
  
I heard the cop's TV turn off, and then I felt a shadow.  
  
"Wha-you?"  
  
The moving shadow stepped forward, and came into the light.  
  
It was my father!  
  
"It is good to see you again Pietro. Even under such distressing circumstances."  
  
His voice sounded about the same: calm, in control, not worried about a thing. He looked just like his picture, too. The costume, the cape, the helmet, everything! I don't like to admit stuff, but I was actually glad to see him. I had run away when I was just a stupid little kid, and then I couldn't find my way back. I had missed him a lot when I was put in the foster homes.  
  
  
  
But now, he was right there, in person for the first time in over six years! My child's heart called out to him, "Dad, please take me home!"  
  
But it came out as, "Yeah, well, you could make them a lot less distressing you know. Come on, hustle it up!"  
  
Probably not the best way to greet your estranged father who was offering to bust you out of jail, but he didn't seem to mind. He actually smiled a little as he bent the prison bars for me.  
  
I took his hand, and then things began to change.   
  
I wish that I could say that it was all for the better. 


	5. Brotherhood

It was kinda weird going with him. By 'him', I'm not sure who I mean. I took Magneto's outstretched hand, and he led me out of the police station. Magneto led me to the limo waiting in the alley, Magneto sat across from me in the back seat.  
  
I know that my father is Magneto, but is Magneto my father?  
  
He couldn't be!  
  
If he were really my father, wouldn't heat least act happy to see me after all this time?  
  
Wouldn't he, I don't know, look me up and down and then say something like, "You've grown a lot, son."?  
  
I ran away when I was only eleven; hadn't he been worried about something bad happening to me? I was just a little kid, and I had found out- that once again- he was right. The world was filled with bad, horrible people.  
  
Sometimes I think that I've already turned into one of them.  
  
He removed the helmet and set it beside him, I could see his face clearly in the passing street lights.  
  
I stared at him, he stared back at me.  
  
I had forgotten how much we look alike. The hair, the skin, the eyes.yep, spitting images.  
  
I leaned back in my seat. "Where are we going?" I asked.  
  
"We're taking you to your new home." He replied. He simply answered with no further reply.  
  
'What is going on here?' I asked myself.  
  
Evan- that stupid, skater freshmen- managed to assemble a gang of mutants to land me in jail, and then my father shows up out of nowhere to bust me out and give me a ride home?  
  
This was just too weird.  
  
"Mag-." I began, but then I changed my mind.  
  
This was my father! He wasn't the mutant villain I had read about all through the years, he is my father, the man who took care of me when I was little, who helped me discover my powers.we may have been separated for a long time, but he was still my father, wasn't he?  
  
"Father, what is going on? How did you find me?" I asked.  
  
He glanced up and met my eyes. "I have my methods."  
  
I felt the car slow down, stop.  
  
"Wait a minute, you're just gonna leave me? This isn't even my neighborhood!" I declared.  
  
He got out of the limo, and stood waiting for me outside. I had to follow him.  
  
"But, I thought that now we found each other."  
  
What was I going to say? That I wanted us to be a family again? No, no, Pietro, stop it, you're still thinking like a little kid!  
  
"I know Pietro, soon.but there are many things to be done first. Perhaps when I have accomplished what I have set out to do, but not before. I have few people I can trust. Despite the separation of the years, you are still my son. Can I trust you as an ally?"  
  
His voice softened only the tiniest bit, but it didn't dull out the edge to his words.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" I asked.  
  
"Simple things, but not without some degree of challenge. The first thing you must do is relocate, to this house." He gestured over my shoulder.  
  
I turned and read the sign in the half-dead lawn. 'Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House'.  
  
"There are three young men already living inside. All mutants with varying degree of power. You have already met the X-men. That is Charles Xavier's team of mutants. They are a threat to the Brotherhood, and not to be trusted. Meet the Brotherhood and get acquainted, you will live with them from now on."  
  
He didn't leave any room for discussion, he just handed me a cell phone, "We'll keep in touch with this. Remember what I told you, the X-men must not be trusted."  
  
With a squeal of tires, he was gone.  
  
*^*^*  
  
I knocked on the door, and a guy answered.  
  
He was taller than me by a couple of inches. Darker too, in skin, hair and eyes. He was wearing a pair of roughed up jeans, a black t-shirt with a vest and black motorcycle gloves.  
  
"Yeah?" he asked.  
  
I didn't really know what to say, "Um, hi. Is this the Brotherhood of mutants?" I asked.  
  
He rolled his eyes, "New recruit!" he yelled into the house.  
  
Opening the door all the way, he let me inside.  
  
The house was in terrible shape, but still an improvement from my old apartment.  
  
"Aw, man, another one? If he's as big as Blob, then we gonna need another boardin' house!" came a voice from somewhere upstairs. It was another guy, with what sounded like a New Jersey accent.  
  
I heard something slam against the wall upstairs, and then another something crash. "Whoops, my bad!"  
  
Literally bouncing off the walls was another mutant. He jumped back and forth between the walls on either side of the staircase, and came to a stop right in front of me.  
  
He had landed in a crouching position, but stood up straight to look me in the eyes.  
  
He was dressed no better than the guy who opened the door for me, his clothes both ripped and stained. His skin was somewhat sallow, and his eyes had a yellowy tinge. His teeth weren't in the best shape, either. He didn't look too healthy, but he had an energetic personality. He seemed happy.  
  
"What's up new kid, I'm Todd Tolanski, but the guys just call me Toad. Wanna guess why?" he asked.  
  
"The jumping?"  
  
"Just one of my many talents! Observe."  
  
He pointed at a fly zipping around the front door, and I watched it for a second. Then, out of nowhere, this long, green tongue lashed out and plucked it right out of midair!  
  
"Whoa!" I cried as I watched the tongue pull back into his mouth.  
  
"Oh yeah? Think that's impressive, watch this!"  
  
The first guy who had been standing next to me, but keeping silent, had spoken up.  
  
He made a low groan of effort as his eyes rolled back, and I felt the ground start to shake under my feet! The entire house started to shake, the walls were cracking, the ceiling plaster started to rain down on us.  
  
As quickly as it had started, the quaking stopped. "Wow, now that's my kinda power!" I exclaimed, totally impressed.  
  
"Thanks, name's Lance Alvers." I'm sure he would have said something else, but he was interrupted.  
  
"Lance, knock it off! Some of us are trying to sleep!"  
  
We all turned. This third guy was huge!  
  
It wasn't just the blubbery belly that hung over his sweatpants; he had muscles to spare! He also had a blonde Mohawk haircut, and apparently, a bad temper.  
  
"Just trying to educate Mystique's new recruit. Relax, Blob." Lance explained.  
  
"New recruit, huh? Good, we could use another on our side to help us duke it out with those X-geeks." He said.  
  
"I'll do my best." I said.  
  
"What's your name, man? I didn't catch it." Toad said.  
  
"I'm Pietro Maximoff."  
  
"There's a mouthful." Lance muttered, "So what's your power anyway? It'll have to be useful if we're gonna go against Xavier's team."  
  
I led them outside, and showed them how useful I was going to be. I made a small twister, ran up and down the side of the house and then to finish my act, I ran to the convenience store up the block and returned with a six- pack of Cokes, took about a second.  
  
"Awesome Pietro, you're in!" Lance patted me on the back as he took a can.  
  
They welcomed me into the house of brotherhood, and I had repaid them with betrayal.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Don't get me wrong, things were cool for a while. We faced off with the X- men a few different times, but it was never anything serious; no one ever got hurt, and we had the upper hand sometimes, but it would've been nice to win just once.  
  
If anything, going against the X-men taught us what our limits were. But it wasn't always about Magneto's team versus Xavier's team. We all went to the same school, we had to be peaceful around one another. Lance and that X- girl, Kitty even had a thing going on.  
  
How they managed to carry on while being on opposing teams is beyond me.  
  
For my part, I did whatever my father asked. Infiltration, spying, whatever; it was all the same, really.  
  
I never questioned his orders. If I could help things move along faster for him, then of course, I would do it.  
  
We had fun, there weren't any adults around, save for the occasional visit from Mystique. I didn't like her very much. All she did was yell and complain, I ignored her most of the time.  
  
Anyway, things were cool for awhile.until I got the call.  
  
Apparently, father had been building.  
  
In the article I had, it said he was stealing military equipment.I never questioned what it could've been for, but I understood now.  
  
Asteroid M. 


	6. No Girls Allowed

Asteroid M was a failure, no doubt about it. I mean, it wouldn't have failed if not for the X-men, but it was still destroyed.   
  
I don't remember very much from that night, Rogue touched me and absorbed my power. I was unconscious for a long time, but I woke up on the X-men's chopper. I sat up and saw out the window; Asteroid M crashing back down to Earth. I was beyond confused.   
  
What had happened after Rogue knocked me out?   
  
Where was my father?   
  
He couldn't possibly still be on the asteroid...could he? No, no, of course not. He's my father, indestructible Magneto the Master of Magnetism, but if that's true, then where was he?   
  
I watched the asteroid fall back down to earth, exploding into a giant fireball. Someone put a hand on my shoulder. "Two escape pods left the asteroid. He's fine kid." Wolverine, the mascot of the X-men.   
  
Inside, I was sick with anger, but I didn't say anything.  
  
For once, I kept my mouth shut. No point in upsetting the people who were giving my friends and I a lift home, right?  
  
Wolverine had been telling the truth.  
  
The only family I had left was alive and kicking, although somewhat disappointed in his failed plan. He hadn't contacted me for a long time, and I was fine with that.  
  
I'm trying to be a good son here, but I'm realistic enough to see that my father is dangerous. Too dangerous, he doesn't even seem to care about me that much.  
  
He only calls when he has an assignment; never just to say 'hello', never to ask how things were. I hardly ever saw him anyway. For a while, I actually hoped that he had died on Asteroid M. If he was dead then he couldn't dangle the prospect of a happy life in front of me anymore.   
  
He said that we could be a family again after everything he had planned was finished.   
  
Well, who needs him, huh? Not me, I don't need anyone, that's for sure!  
  
I was happy living in the Brotherhood house, it was great!  
  
Just me, Lance, Toad and Blob. The four of us, just being what we were: mutants.  
  
It was fun, we didn't have to hide our powers. I was running all over the house with Toad bouncing off the walls; whenever Lance got very mad or very happy, the house would shake. Blob was as strong as I was fast; he could toss Lance's jeep up over his head without any effort.   
  
We're guys, thus, we are competitive. We argued about a lot of stuff. Which girl was prettier at school, which sports team was better, etc. Of course, my personal favorite argument was always mutant related.  
  
Which member of the Brotherhood had the most destructive potential?  
  
Toad is an amazing gymnast; he's a good fighter too, strong legs make for killer kicks. He can slime people and whip them with that tongue of his, but he fights best one-on-one. Same goes for Blob: it'd take a lot to bring him down, but he is too slow.   
  
Not too blow my own horn or anything, but I think that the top contenders for destruction were me and Lance. With practice, I could create powerful tornadoes and just by running, I could make a sonic boom.   
  
Lance could bring down a building, but only one at a time. We each had our own strengths and weaknesses, and we never really won against the X-men.  
  
Still, what a destructive house of boys we were.   
  
WERE. As in, past tense?   
  
Somehow we managed to get a new house mate. Some called her Tabitha, she called herself "Boom-Boom". 


	7. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

I'll be honest, it was weird at first, having a girl in the house. I hadn't really had any girls close to me since that girl Mary from grade school, but Boom-Boom and Mary were worlds apart.  
  
Actually, I think that Boom-Boom and the rest of the female population were worlds apart! She was so...un-girly.  
  
She was pretty, really cute. She had short blonde hair that she liked to flip out at the ends; she wore lots of makeup but could pull it off really well, she had nice clothes too.   
  
However, she never complained about chipping her nail polish or getting split ends when it came time to fight. She liked the action, she practically thrived on it.  
  
She had a good power for fighting: she could create exploding fireballs. It was a very amusing gift. All she had to do was concentrate and these little balls of energy would form in her hands, and she could control the force of the explosions and set them off with her mind.  
  
We had a lot of fun with that at school. Lance liked vandalism, I liked robbery. With Tabitha in the mix, we could do both.  
  
We never told the Brotherhood about this, but one night, Tabitha and I snuck out. We both have that rebellious personality; I suppose that it was only natural for us to come up with a fun way to make trouble.   
  
We left late on a Saturday night. Lance, Toad and Blob were asleep, and didn't hear the Jeep's engine. I drove to the school, and we walked up to the door.  
  
"Pietro, are you sure about this?" she asked. She was a little nervous, I could understand. She had only just been arrested for the exact same thing, but I guaranteed her:  
  
"Don't worry, Tabby. You're not even going inside, no one will know you played any part in this. We won't get caught, and even if the police do come, we'll be long gone."  
  
"All right, fine. Let's just get this over with." She had said, looking around nervously.   
  
She rubbed her hands together, and one of the tiny firecrackers sprouted from her palms.   
  
She shoved it into the school door's lock, and had me step back. The lock blew clean off, and the door swung wide open.  
  
"Ah, oh man, let's get out of here!" she cried when the alarm started screeching.  
  
"No way! We came this far, it's a challenge!" I replied, my voice raised over the siren. She smiled back at me, and rubbed her palms together again.  
  
This time, rather than just one energy ball, she created several. They glowed in the night, full of danger.  
  
"Ok, here," she said as she handed them to me, "But hurry up! I don't need another arrest this month." She urged.  
  
I smiled at her, and ran through the school, tossing the little glowing orbs under lockers.  
  
In less than a second, I had spread them throughout the whole school. I ran out just in time, Tabitha had made them explode right after I set my foot out the door.  
  
"Whoa, geez, Tab! What if I had still been in there?" I asked her.  
  
She only smiled and tipped my chin up with her index finger. "I know you'd never be that slow."  
  
I rolled my eyes and gave her a sarcastic smile. "Well, that's the gospel truth." I agreed as I grabbed the duffle bag we had brought along.  
  
I ran back inside, grabbing anything of value out of the lockers and shoving it in the duffle.  
  
Five seconds later, I had cleaned out the whole school. "Ok, done."  
  
"Great, now let's get out of here!"   
  
We both hopped into the Jeep and drove back home. Of course, we split the haul fifty-fifty, maybe having a girl around wouldn't be so bad after all.  
  
*^*^*   
  
Tabitha has a party-girl type of personality, all she really wanted to do was have some fun, and if she could do that and help some people, then of course she would do it.  
  
For a couple of weeks, she started hanging out with her X-men girlfriends, but she assured me that she wasn't going back anytime soon (unlike Lance, who suddenly decided that he wanted to be an X-man for two whole days). All they would do was drive around-in Lance's 'borrowed' Jeep- and stop car thieves.  
  
Well, to each his own. She was a Bayville Siren for a short while, and she was sorry to see the little group break up, but it did free her schedule for the school dance.  
  
Lance got invited by Kitty, and we couldn't help but tease him for it. He was getting it bad, but Tabby actually got the idea that it would be fun to go.  
  
Hmmm, the Brotherhood and a school dance, sounds like fun.  
  
All right, Lance could take Kitty, and I could take those four girls from science lab...  
  
It would have been a fun dance, if not for the giant red lizards that came out of nowhere. But never mind that, they were taken care of pretty painlessly.   
  
Not like when Wanda came back. 


	8. Sister

I hate Mystique. She brought the Brotherhood together for no reason other than to get at the X-men. At first it had been about helping Magneto protect mutants against the humans; now all she cared about was fighting the X-men. She was crazy, I could tell the second she walked through the door. It wasn't just how she looked physically, I could see it in her eyes. Something had happened on Asteroid M, and she wanted to kill Magneto for it.  
  
She couldn't do it herself, so she freed Wanda from the hospital to do it for her.  
  
Wanda.  
  
The only other member of my biological family. She stood there in the doorway, looking at me, and then she exploded with rage.  
  
Energy crackled the air as she attacked me and the rest of the Brotherhood. She had gone through some changes in the hospital, that's for sure!  
  
Her attacks were infinitely stronger, she showed us no mercy.  
  
Mystique was so proud. She shrugged off my concerns for our safety and gloated about having a new weapon against the X-men and Magneto.  
  
I wanted to choke her until she turned blue.er, well you know what I mean.  
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
Our mother left us once she found out that Wanda was a mutant. We had all lived together for years before father showed up. We just came home from school one day, and father was in the living room, waiting for us.  
  
It was pleasant for awhile, this man we were supposed to call "father" moved in and helped mom take care of us. He was always nice, if a little intimidating.  
  
I hadn't realized it then, but whenever weird things started to happen, they always happened when Wanda got mad. She got mad a lot, she had a bad temper (and still does!). It took a while before our parents caught on, but when they did.  
  
I don't know why, but our mother left us. For some reason, she couldn't bear to know that her children were mutants. She didn't even say goodbye, she just left a note that said "I'm sorry, but it's better this way."  
  
Man, if mom could see her little mutie babies now, huh?  
  
Wanda's a gothed out maniac and I'm an egotistical criminal. We're both mutants, we're both proud of it, too.  
  
Father took care of us, but Wanda blamed him for mother leaving us. She couldn't control her powers or her anger, she had nearly killed us several times before father took direct action.  
  
Kicking and screaming, she was dragged into the hospital.  
  
Father was saddened, I could tell, but he assured me it was for the best.  
  
I never wanted Magneto to put Wanda in the hospital, but what could I do at seven years old, huh? Use my super-whining powers against him? I couldn't help her then, but maybe I could help her now.  
  
She had gone into the bathroom, and started cutting off her hair.  
  
I tried to complement her on the new haircut. She wanted to hurt me.  
  
I tried to explain my position to her. She tried to hurt me.  
  
I tried to get her to see it from Magneto's point of view. She did hurt me.  
  
"Monsters don't have a point of view! And you're just like him, you always were!"  
  
That cut me deep. I didn't want to be like Magneto.  
  
But even I could see that it was already too late. 


End file.
